


A War to Win

by nonbinarycoded



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarycoded/pseuds/nonbinarycoded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons would try anything to keep Grif from dying. Unfortunately, the soldiers, medics, and Grif all had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A War to Win

“No, I can't.”  
  
The word rang in Simmons' head. _Can't. Can't. Can not._ “And why the fuck not?!” Simmons shrieked, torn between outrage and desperation.  
  
“What you're asking me to do isn't physically possible with the materials we have here! I don't know how the fuck it worked on you, but it's not working a second time.”  
  
"Bullshit! He's going to die, you have to fucking try!”  
  
“No, actually, I _don't_. Besides, I don't know if you'd need a medic or a mechanic or some combination of the two to help, but I wouldn't waste parts we _could_ be using to fix our vehicles to try to help _one_ soldier who, from the looks of him, is going to d-”  
  
“ _Don't SAY that!_ ” Simmons roared, glaring at the other man. “He'll be _fine_ if you just fucking _help him_!”  
  
“ _No_.” With that, the medic walked away, leaving Simmons to stand outside the infirmary door, tears pricking his eyes. He almost couldn't go back in there, but he forced himself to step inside. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the cot he was looking for, and he almost rushed back outside. He didn't know how he managed, but he walked over to the side of the cot and took off his helmet, placing it on the floor to the side.  
  
Grif's eyes, previously glassy and unfocused, trained on Simmons the second he walked up. “Heard you out there,” he said, and his voice was more weak and quiet than Simmons had ever heard it.  
  
“Grif, I'm so sorry,” Simmons began, hesitating when his voice broke. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering down to the red-soaked bandages wrapped around Grif's middle, but looking him in the eye was almost worse.  
  
“Not your fault. Thanks for trying, but don't waste time on me.”  
  
“No! No, it's not a waste if it's worth it! Grif, you're not going to die! I'll find a way to- to...” He floundered for any way he could make this better, because he _had_ to make it better, Grif _couldn't_ die, he-  
  
“Simmons.” He froze; he didn't want to hear Grif speak, but he knew he had to listen. “They can't help. Stop, okay? It's going to be fine.”  
  
“How can you say that though? It's not!”  
  
“ _Yes_ , it _is_. You'll be _fine_. Do me a favor? Go out there and fucking fight. Don't just give up or whatever, I know you'll try that if I don't tell you not to. You have a war to win.”  
  
“I _can't_ , you're supposed to be there!” Simmons said. He didn't realize he was crying until something wet landed on Grif's arm. “You're supposed to _help_ me!”  
  
Grif looked like he was going to answer, but his eyes widened, and he stiffened a bit. His breathing sped up some before his eyes dulled and it stopped entirely.  
  
“Grif! Grif, you bastard, you're supposed to help me! You can't go! You have to come with me! I fucking need you here! Grif, please! _Please_!” Simmons sobbed, burying his face into the other man's chest. He made sure to keep his arm well clear of the bandages, even though touching them wouldn't have hurt anything at that point. Eventually one of the medics had to come pull him away so they could take care of the body. Simmons took one final deep breath before picking his helmet back up and fastening it.  
  
He had a war to win.


End file.
